In Which Sirius Black Writes a Story
by Angel-son of Caesar
Summary: A story about how Lily and James got together. Begins at the beginning of 7th year, Marauder era. Sirius POV-he did write it, after all. James/Lily, please read the disclaimer chapter first.
1. DISCLAIMER

**In Which Sirius Black Writes a Story**

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**DISCLAIMER,**

**OR**

**IT BELONGS TO JKR, DON'T SUE ME.**

Before I begin to actually "disclaim" this story and describe my reasons for doing so, I would like to warn you that coarse language may be used. I will rate it T (I rate all my stories T anyway) but the language may be considered to be stronger than T. I would not like to rate this story M because there are no adult themes (well, there will be minor suggestions of such, naturally; it's me writing for Sirius, after all), and I do not feel as if it is fair to me or the readers to mislead people by rating this story M. However, I also do not consider it fair that you should go into this story thinking there will only be mild coarse language, when, really, it could get much worse. You have been warned. Let's move on.

I would like this fanfiction story to be formatted in such a way that the reader actually feels as if they are reading a book, one by Sirius Black. Therefore, I would like to begin this story with a disclaimer that applies to _all_ the following chapters, instead of disclaiming each chapter individually at the beginning of the chapter. Also, to further enhance the feel of this story as a story, I will not be writing author's notes at the beginning/end of each chapter. Everything will be dealt with either at the end, or with chapters titled "Author's Note" or "AN" or the like.

So, once again, I own nothing, and please review! Enjoy the following story, which is the work of Sirius Black (who is, in turn, the work of JKR).

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Title Page:

Losing Pride and Prejudice

by Sirius Black


	2. Agatha

_Chapter One_

AGATHA

There is, I believe, a rather amusing (though not too well known) tale in which a rather dashing young man inadvertently walks in on two young lovers while they are engaged in private activities. This young man was a good friend of the couple, and, upon realization of what they were doing, he began to exclaim in shock, effectively making the other two aware of his presence. They immediately stopped what they were doing in utter mortification and questioned his presence. At this point, the young man explained, "Well...I needed to borrow a quill."

Incidentally, the necessity of borrowing a quill is how _this_ story begins.

It was the first day of September. My friend James Potter and I had been finishing some business matters late the night before, and, consequently, we slept through our alarm. On that day, we had needed to catch a train, the Hogwarts Express, which left at exactly 11:00 a.m. We had never known anyone to miss that train before, and we did not want to be the first to do so. Upon waking at 10:37, James realized how tardy we were, and proceeded to shake me gently awake. We then calmly went about our preparations and took a leisurely stroll to the station before discreetly walking in and going to Platform 9 3/4. Upon reaching the platform, we tranquilly boarded our train, found a compartment, and sat down with our good friends Peter Pettigrew and Remus Lupin.

Which is to say, James opened his eyes, reached for his glasses, saw the clock, leapt out of bed, kicked me (while shouting, "Merlin, we're late! Up, Pads, up, the train leaves in less than half an hour! Merlin!"), effectively getting me out of bed; at this point, we ran around the house finishing packing and eating a hurried breakfast (simultaneously tripping, cursing, yelling at each other, and panicking-we're good at multitasking) before quickly grabbing our trunks and Apparating to King's Cross Station. Upon arrival, we sprinted to the platform, knocking over anything in our way, then rapidly loaded our bags onto the train before climbing on ourselves, then rushed down the train until we found Misters Remus Lupin and Peter Pettigrew.

Our late arrival had, naturally, made our companions curious as to the reason for said late arrival. They were very worried; our absence had caused a major upsetting of their plans-they are quite dependent on us. Our absence had done dreadful things to their nerves, and it took us a while to calm them down. In fact, here's how the exchange went:

"Pads, I think they're further down the train," said James.

I rolled my eyes. "Of course they are, you twit, or else we'd already be sitting with them."

"What I meant was, HURRY THE F*&# UP!"

"Alright, alright...here they are!"

We entered the compartment and were greeted with the sight of Remus buried in a book and Peter looking uninterestedly out of the window. Neither of them turned to look at us.

"So they've finally arrived, eh, Moony?" drawled Peter.

"It seems so, Pete," replied Remus.

James looked at me. "Shall we sit, Sirius?"

"I believe we shall, James."

We took our seats and were silent for a few moments as the train started. After a few minutes, though, I grew impatient.

"Well, aren't you going to ask us why we're so late?" I queried.

"We weren't going to," said Peter, "but if you'd like-"

"As a matter of courtesy, I had expected you to," returned James.

Remus was gracious enough to flick his eyes up from the book he was reading and glance at James and I before sighing and looking back at his book.

"Why were you so late?" he inquired, with an air of polite curiosity.

"We were not awoken by our alarm," James replied.

"We'd figured," said Peter, still looking disinterestedly out of the window.

"Because we'd been up late the night before-" I continued.

"Doing your homework at the very last minute, as usual," Remus finished for us.

"Precisely," said James, seemingly very pleased that Remus understood what had happened.

Remus rolled his eyes. "What have I told you about doing your homework at the last minute?"

"Don't," James and I chorused, before bursting into laughter.

Remus sighed. "You'd think repetition would help them learn..." he muttered.

"It does help us learn!" James refuted earnestly.

Remus scoffed.

"It does!" I agreed. "We were able to tell you what you had told us! We've memorized it, you've told us and tested us so many times!"

"What I meant was, you'd think that it would help you learn to not do it at the last minute."

"We started earlier this time," James protested.

"Like, at seven, not eight," I supplied.

"Yeah, we just-"

"Didn't expect-"

"The History of Magic-"

"Essay to take-"

"More than-"

"An hour-"

"But then-"

"We had-"

"To spend-"

"Like three-"

"And a half-"

"Hours just-"

"Coming up with-"

"Stuff to write-"

"It's harder to make up stuff about the effect-"

"Of dragon pox on armies in goblin wars-"

"Than you'd think!" James and I finished together, triumphantly.

"Mmhmm..." Remus said disinterestedly. "And how much of that time was spent practicing that little speech?"

"Only the last half hour."

"And how much time coming up with the speech?"

"The third hour."

"And how much watching television?"

"The second hour."

"And you wonder why you overslept."

"But, Remus, Star Wars was on!"

"...fair enough."

"Wait a second," Peter interrupted, turning from the window for the first time since we'd arrived. "There was a History of Magic essay?"

There was a lengthy pause in the conversation.

"Merlin's pants."

"Oh, my great aunt Muriel."

"Dear Lord, Pete, how in the name of Merlin's pinky toe could you forget?"

"There isn't usually summer homework in that class!"

"Don't worry, Pete!" said James, throwing an arm around Peter. "We'll help you do your essay!"

"Really? Thanks, mates."

"Sure thing," I confirmed.

James and I handed Peter our essays, as well as a few extra sheets of parchment.

Remus glanced up at us.

"What? How do you expect him to learn if you just let him copy off of you two?"

James and I scoffed.

"He's got to _read_ the essays, hasn't he?" James replied.

"Plus," I added, "there's two essays!"

The other three boys stared at me.

"So?"

"So? So? So he's got to read them _both_ and then _choose_ what information to put into his own! And, he has to change the words around so it doesn't look like he copied!"

There was another pause in the conversation, though not nearly as long as the first.

"Dear Merlin, this sounds like so much work, Sirius!" Peter joked, imitating a frightened first year. James and I laughed, and Remus smiled a little.

"Now, Sirius, this would make a good argument," said Remus.

I smiled triumphantly.

"But," he continued, beginning to smirk.

My smile faltered.

"You forgot to take into account that since you and James worked together, the information in both essays is the same, just worded differently. So all he needs to do is read one essay and reword it."

"But he still needs to _read_," James cut in.

Remus shot a quick sideways glance at him, which clearly stated that he should stop talking.

"Also, you two prats forgot that your essays are close to worthless, considering you made up all your details!" Remus finished, with a definite smirk on his face now.

"Alright, that makes sense," Peter gave in.

"True," James and I conceded, reaching for our essays.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa!" Peter said. "I'm still going to use them!"

"Oh, okay then." James and I leaned back.

Remus rolled his eyes.

"Erm...guys?" Peter broke the silence hesitantly. "Err...can I borrow a quill?"

"Dear Merlin, Pete."

"I've got a quill." Remus handed Peter a quill.

"You would, Remus...you would," remarked James.

"Yeah, only you," I agreed.

"Peter, I would not suggest using those essays," said Remus, ignoring us.

"I don't want to do it on my own."

"Now, my essay, on the other hand, is, of course, pure gold," said Remus, disregarding Peter's comment.

"Well, then...can I borrow it?"

"Absolutely not!" Remus looked appalled.

"Sorry...I meant, may I borrow it?" James, Peter, and I laughed.

"You may not!"

"Why not?"

"I have to go," said Remus abruptly, changing the subject.

"Go where?" I queried.

"The Prefects' Meeting," Remus answered.

James started. "Oh, dear...I have to attend that as well! I completely forgot!"

"That's right, we've got a Marauder as Head Boy," I said proudly. "One of our greatest dreams realized: we've finally got a man on the inside."

"Remus has been a prefect for two years," Peter pointed out, still poring over the essays.

"But Head Boy is a higher position," I returned.

"Touche."

"Well, I, or we, I guess, should be off," said Remus. "Farewell."

"Yeah, we have to go now," said James. "Bye, guys."

As James was walking through the door, a thought crossed my mind.

"Wait, James!" I called.

He stopped and looked at me.

"What is it?"

"Could I borrow the Cloak?"

"Sure thing, here."

He pulled something silvery out of his pocket and handed it to me.

"Thanks, buddy."

"No problem. See you guys later."

Then, turning around once more, James left the compartment to join Remus on the journey to the Prefects' Meeting.

But little did he know of the circumstances in which he _would_ see me later.


	3. The Prefects' Compartment

_Chapter Two_

THE PREFECTS' COMPARTMENT

I do not know the details of my friends' journey to the Prefects' compartment. The time spent waiting for them to return was, naturally, extremely unfulfilling. This was to be expected; having Remus gone for such meetings was bad enough, but without my best friend the compartment I sat in became incredibly dull.

I had, of course, foreseen such a thing and taken precautions to avoid being bored out of my very mind: I was currently in possession of James Potter's Invisibility Cloak.

But we will get to that in time. This chapter will continue chronologically from the last, as good stories sometimes do.

With that said, the following few paragraphs are an account of what happened after James and Remus abandoned Peter and I.

The only noise was that of the train and Peter's quill scratching. I checked my watch. The meeting was to begin in ten minutes. It would take James and Remus about five to reach the compartment. The meeting was supposed to last for an hour, but could end up running longer, if the new Prefects had enough questions.

Speaking of questions, Peter actually startled me out of this calculating reverie with one.

"What _year_ were you actually writing here?"

"Check James' paper," I replied quickly, still thinking about other things.

"I did. But they both look the same. I can make out the one and four at the beginning-"

"Then at least you have the century. You don't need the last two numbers."

"But I'd rather know."

"Peter," I said exasperatedly, looking him in the eye. "James and I made up all the information. That says 14-something or other. All we know is the century. Put any date. It doesn't matter."

"But, still," he persisted.

"Fourteen ninety-two!" I yelled.

"Thank you," he replied, smirking.

In retrospect, I realize that he was probably just messing with me. Had it been someone else, I would have found this extremely funny.

However, as soon as he went back to writing I comprehended that it was likely that I'd be late. A quick glance at my watch confirmed this suspicion and I immediately set off.

Standing up, I opened the compartment door, said a quick word of farewell to Peter, and, in one fluid motion, left the compartment, shut the door, and pulled James' Invisibility Cloak over myself.

I rapidly strode down the train, avoiding others while looking at my watch every few seconds, as though time might travel more slowly if I did so.

I arrived at the Prefects' Compartment shortly and slipped in through the door with a fifth year.

I found a spot upon the luggage rack (while wondering what a luggage rack was doing in a compartment for meetings), which was empty, and I was able to hoist myself upon the rack quickly and easily while Lily Evans, Head Girl, tried to get the attention of the Prefects.

In the books I have read, the author generally describes important characters when they are introduced.

Miss Lily Evans was Head Girl. Red hair, green eyes, pale skin. Rather fiery temper, and very headstrong. Good student. Good witch. Muggle-born.

But I think that the most important thing to remember about Miss Lily Evans is the fact that she didn't like us.

Remus she could handle. Remus was smart and well-read and he and Lily had been friends for some years. But she didn't like Peter and I. No, Lily did not like Peter and I.

But _James_.

Especially not James.

There was something about him that just irked her.

At the time, I didn't know what it was.

I thought perhaps it was his looks, or his natural talent, or maybe his arrogance. It might have been something he did, like run his hand through his hair or ask her out all the time. It may have been because he was rich and pure-blooded. The point is, she hated him.

I could imagine her surprise upon realizing James was Head Boy.

Well, I thought I could.

As it turns out, she was much more surprised and angry than I'd expected.

Her brain rejected the idea that James would be her fellow Head student, and she insisted that he return the badge to Remus.

It was rather entertaining, actually.

But I digress.

Lily was still struggling. She was attempting to simultaneously silence the Prefects and make James tell her that he was just playing a prank and that he wasn't really Head Boy.

I noticed that she wasn't being very efficient.

She was putting too much energy into telling James off, which left little energy to get the Prefects' attention.

As James actually _was_ Head Boy, Lily was unsuccessful in that enterprise. And since she was trying so hard to do the impossible, she couldn't do the possible.

As a result, neither of her desired tasks were being achieved.

James was just listening to Lily rant with a small smile on his face, when his eyes drifted around the room and landed where I was hiding.

His brow creased.

"...could get into a great deal of trouble for this-are you even listening to me, Potter?" Lily was yelling.

"Everyone, please calm down and be quiet," called James, with his eyes still locked on my invisible form.

There was no response.

"STOP TALKING," he boomed, turning to face the Prefects. I breathed a small sigh of relief.

The Prefects stopped talking.

"I, James Potter, am the Head Boy this year. Lily Evans, here, is the Head Girl. Although you may be Prefects, please remember that we _are_ your superiors. You are to follow our instructions. Are there any questions so far?"

A hand rose in the back.

"What spell did you have to use on Dumbledore to get him to make you Head Boy?"

"_Thank_ you," Lily said, under her breath.

James' eyes flicked to Lily for a split-second, before darting back to the Prefect who had spoken. There was silence for several seconds as James stared him down.

Finally, James' face relaxed and he smiled, ever so slightly.

"I did no such thing. You will have to talk to Mr. Sirius Black if you want answers to those kinds of questions." At the mention of my name, James looked back at me. "Are there any other questions?"

Silence.

"Good," said James, looking back at his audience. "Now we can go on. Lily, is there anything you'd like to say first?"

Lily started, unprepared.

"Er...no, not right now."

"Well, then, I guess I'll just begin with responsibilities of Prefects. Do you think that's a good idea?"

"I, er...yes, I...yes."

"Very good. Now, as a Prefect, you are expected to..." James launched into a long and boring speech which I will not include here. During the course of this speech, Lily was staring at him with a look of disbelief and confusion on her face. At the end of it, Lily sighed and shook her head. I took this to mean that she accepted that James was, in fact, Head Boy.

"...and I believe that's all we need to discuss. Lily, do you have anything to add?"

"No, that was," she paused and swallowed hard, "well done."

James was positively beaming at the small compliment.

"Alright, then, any questions? No? Very well, you are all free to go."

The room cleared out quickly and noisily as the Prefects packed their things and began talking to each other once more.

Eventually, only Remus, James, Lily, and I were left inside the compartment.

Remus was standing near the door, waiting for James, as he and Lily took their time gathering their things.

Lily picked up her bag and made to leave, but James stopped her.

"Evans," he said. Lily froze and slowly turned around.

"Yes, Potter?"

"I, er, think...I think that we should call a truce." From behind Lily's back, Remus was giving James the thumbs-up sign.

"A truce?"

"Yes, if we're going to work together as Heads, we need to cooperate. Y'know, not be so belligerent and openly hostile, no fighting or shouting matches, first name basis-"

"What was that last one?" Lily interrupted quickly.

"No fighting or shouting matches?"

"No, the other one."

"First names?"

"Yes, that one."

"What about it?"

"Why do we need that?"

"It's friendly and more professional."

"How is calling you 'James' more professional than calling you 'Potter?'"

"Well, it means that we're being mature and setting aside our differences, Lily."

She started. I understood. It must have been strange hearing James say her first name, and especially like that, like the way he'd say it to us, the Marauders, his closest friends. Hearing her name said so naturally, so confidently, so happily...it must have been quite a shock to her to hear that from the mouth of James Potter.

"Erm...alright, then. A truce. I think I like that," she smiled a little.

"I'm glad." James smiled back. "Shake on it?"

"Sure." Lily held out her hand.

James took it.

For a moment, or possibly a century, they just stood there, holding hands, staring at each other peacefully with their goofy little smiles. It was though the feel of each others' touch, even in just a handshake, had stunned them.

Remus coughed.

James began to shake Lily's hand, and then dropped it. They both looked around embarrassedly, now acutely aware of what had just happened.

"Er, well...I'll see you later, Pott-James," Lily corrected herself with another small smile.

"You, as well, Lily," returned James, grinning broadly. I rolled my eyes.

Lily left the room.

James sighed and looked around the room, still grinning. He looked at the last Prefect still around.

"We have a truce," he told Remus unnecessarily.

"I heard," smiled Remus. "It took you long enough."

James laughed.

"I wonder what Sirius will say. I doubt he'll believe us," laughed Remus.

"You're wrong."

"What?" Remus was very confused.

"Get off that luggage rack and give me back my Cloak, you tosser."

Knowing that my presence had been known for a while, I climbed down and pulled off the Cloak.

Handing it back to him, I commented to James that it was a very handy Cloak.

"Indeed," he replied. "Though I'd rather you wouldn't use it to follow me around."

"I was following Remus," I lied easily and automatically.

"That's weird," said the aforementioned werewolf.

"I concur," seconded James.

"If you say so," I rejoined, with my hands up in the air, pretending I was the victim.

We all laughed, not because this was funny, but because it really wasn't.

"So," I began, "a truce? What are you going to do, become best friends?"

"Hopefully," replied James.

"You're insane."

"Here we go," muttered Remus.

"What? Why? What if I want to be friends with her?"

"Is that _all_ you want?"

"Well, of course not, but it'll do, for now."

"For now? For now? What is this, 'for now' thing? If you're friends with her, that's all you'll ever be. Just friends. Don't be stupid, James."

"I'm not being stupid. I need to show her the real me, not the person she thinks I am, not that person whom she hates so much. Being friends is the easiest and best way to do that."

"Whatever. It's your loss."

"Look, Sirius, I know we'll be together eventually. We were made for each other." James was practically pleading with me to just agree with him.

"If Merlin wills it, mate, if Merlin only wills it," I said.

"He does, Sirius. He does." James was confident.

"Then it will be so," I replied simply.

"Good. Now that that's settled, who wants something to eat? I, for one, am quite hungry."

And with that, the three of us left the Prefects' Compartment for a better place.


End file.
